


Glitches and Hang-ups in the Process of Adjustment

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, Humour, M/M, Pi Day, St. Patrick's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1285453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: Fill for a <a href="ADD%20PROMPT%20LINK%20">prompt</a> asking for a humorous story about the Avengers struggling to adjust to everyday life, but also having a good time and being able to laugh at themselves.</p><p>[Edit: I changed things around and added a chapter, because another prompt inspired me with some more relevant ideas. Chapters can be read independently of each other.]</p><p>Chapter summaries:</p><p>1) Gods, Toasters, and Nothing We Were Ever Trained For: Clint tries to convince Natasha to move in to Stark Tower, Steve explains how microwave ovens work, Thor vanquishes the toaster, and Bruce sighs long-sufferingly at the blanket-fort equipped with laser-guns Tony built in his lab (and then he helps Tony make its phased array more efficient).</p><p>2) Green Beer, Shamrocks, and Other Gems: Steve decides to go all out for Saint Patrick's Day, and enlist the others' help. Natasha and Clint go a bit overboard on the decoration, which upsets Steve a little, until he understands. Thor's contribution is an affront to science, and Tony does not hesitate to speak out about it. Bruce makes Tony a present, but realises he didn't quite think it through when Tony uses it to troll everyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gods, Toasters, and Nothing We Were Ever Trained For:

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/18271.html?thread=42621279#t42621279) on avengerkink.

"Come on, Nat. At least give it a try," Clint said, walking backwards in front of Natasha through a corridor in Stark Tower. They were both dressed in plain clothes, Natasha in a summer dress and black heels that clicked on the floor, and Clint in a dark red t-shirt and faded black jeans.

 

"Tony will be upset if you don't stay," Clint continued. "And upsetting Tony upsets Bruce these days, so, you know..."

 

"Don't be ridiculous. Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me."

 

"But that was before you saved Manhattan."

 

"Before _he_ saved Manhattan," Natasha corrected.

 

"Before you closed the portal in the precise moment that would keep Iron Man on one side and the nuclear blast on the other. He's got to thank you for that one."

 

Natasha looked like she was going to argue, but Clint cut her off.

 

"Look, I get if you want to keep your distance. But I think you could get used to these people. And if not, you could learn how they work, you know, for future reference. Oh and? Stay for one day--twenty-four hours--and I will never mention Antalya again. Promise."

 

Natasha sighed. "You'd better not."

 

With that, they made it to the elevator. The doors opened after Clint swiped a handprint.

 

"Welcome to Stark Tower, Agent Barton, Agent Romanov."

 

"Thanks, JARVIS!" Clint said. Natasha nodded at the camera.

 

The elevator doors opened to the kitchen on the 48th floor.

 

Thor and Steve were standing at the counter. Steve looked up when Clint and Natasha stepped off the elevator, but Thor remained embroiled in what appeared to be a struggle with a toaster.

 

"Hey, Natasha, Clint" Steve said. "It's good to see you! How have you been?"

 

"Doing well," Natasha answered politely. "You?"

 

"Hanging in there," Steve smiled. "Bruce has been teaching me about microwaves."

 

"Really?" Natasha asked.

 

"Yeah! Although, for now, what I'm getting out of it is that it's a transformer hooked up to a diode and a capacitor, which is in turn hooked up to some sort of microwave emitting magical unicorn."

 

"Is that so?"

 

He smiled and rotated the microwave oven by about 60 degrees; taped to the side of the microwave was a [diagram](http://abstrusegoose.com/how_stuff_works/46095.htm) with "How Microwave Ovens Work" written across the top that depicted exactly what Steve described: capacitor, transformer, diode, unicorn.[1] Then, he turned the microwave back and opened it, taking out a mug a tea.

 

Natasha stared at him.

 

"Hey, at least he didn't try to convince me that only virgins could use them," Steve continued. "That was all Tony."

 

"I believe it," Natasha said.

 

"Oh, but, please don't tell Bruce about the tea," Steve added gesturing at the mug in his hand. "He doesn't approve of tea in microwaves."

 

"I won't tell," Natasha promised. "But for the record, I don't approve either. You can't see it, but I am internally cringing right now."

 

"I'm sorry?" Steve offered.

 

"You should be."

 

"Yeah. Uh, could you not tell Tony either, please? He doesn't approve of tea."

 

"Tony's right there," Natasha pointed out. "He can see and hear you."

 

"Mm..." Steve tilted his head to look at Tony. "No he can't."

 

Natasha laughed and sauntered over to the dining table, where Tony Stark was absent-mindedly toggling a few graphs on the dining table--a dining table that apparently doubled as a computer screen, because a table couldn't possibly just be a table in Tony's kitchen. Clint had taken a seat next to him, but Tony looked for all the world like he hadn't noticed either Clint or Natasha's arrival.

 

"Tony?" Clint prompted.

 

There was no answer.

 

"Stark!" Clint raised his voice.

 

Tony jumped up in his seat, nearly falling over.

 

"Jesus!" He looked around bewildered for a moment before glancing at Clint and then Natasha. "Can't you two tone down the ninja-skills at all? I've got a heart condition."

 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "I'm wearing heels--heels that have been _clicking against your hard-wood floor_. And I just carried an entire conversation with Steve about ten feet away from you."

 

"Yeah? Well--"

 

Tony's response was cut off by Thor's booming voice in the kitchen.

 

"UNHAND MY POP-TARTS THIS INSTANT, YOU MECHANISED CUR!"

 

"Thor," Steve said gently, setting down his mug and turning to face Thor. "The toaster--"

 

"Nay, captain! Do not stay my hand. I must put an end to this nonsense, for I am Thor of Asgard and this metallic contraption shall _rue the day_ when--"

 

The toaster popped up, revealing Thor's Pop-Tarts.

 

"Oh," Thor said, plucking his Pop-Tarts out of the toaster. "I accept your wise surrender. You have been a worthy adversary, brave instrument of fire and of metal."

 

There was a silence as everyone stared at Thor.

 

"Good morning, my friends!" Thor said, as though noticing the others for the first time.

 

"Morning!" Clint said, rising from his seat and walking over to the kitchen. "Nice match," he said, patting Thor on the arm. "And you, too," he said to the toaster, petting it naturally, as though petting toasters were a daily activity for him. "Better luck next time."

 

"Will you be staying long?" Thor asked Natasha.

 

"Perhaps," Natasha replied with a polite smile. "I'll need to see how it fits into my schedule."

 

"Well, I hope you do. It is good to see you, and I would love to stay to exchange hearty tales of intrigue and battle, but I am afraid duty awaits, as I was scheduled to speak to my brother shortly."

 

"Don't worry about it," Natasha said. "It was good to see you too, Thor."

 

Thor bowed politely before stepping out of the room, munching on both Pop-Tarts at once.

 

"So, how has the super-spy business been going?" Tony asked Natasha, breaking the silence that Thor left in his wake. "Jab anyone with needles?"

 

Natasha smiled at him. "Are you sure you want an answer to that?"

 

Tony's eyes widened. "... Okay, why don't you make yourself at home, I'll just go down to my lab to science with my science buddy and--"

 

Bruce chose that exact moment to burst into the kitchen and walk straight towards Tony. He was clean shaven and a few water droplets from his damp hair had settled onto the pressed, purple shirt that looked identical to the one he had shredded in the battle with the Chitauri two months earlier.

 

"Tony! What did you do to my desk?" Bruce asked.

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Tony said.

 

"My desk is drowning in a _ball pen_ , which is in turn in a _blanket fort_ in my lab. Please explain."

 

"It wasn't me!" Tony said.

 

"Tony, I _know_ it was you."

 

"Um..." Tony said. Then he came upon an idea. "You didn't come in to lab this morning! Consider it a punishment for your laziness."

 

"It's 10AM. We finished setting up the simulation at 4AM, after working on the model non-stop for _three days_ , at least fourteen hours of which were wasted following one of your so-called 'short-cuts'." Bruce made quotation marks with his fingers around 'short-cuts'.

 

"Really?" Tony frowned. "Oh right! In that case, consider it a reward for keeping me up for three days with your brilliant science." He waggled his eyebrows at the word 'science'.

 

"You were sleep-building again, weren't you?" Bruce asked.

 

"What makes you think that?"

 

"The slit distance for the phased array is off about 200 nanometres from what would give you phase conjugate amplification. No way you'd miss that if you were awake."

 

Tony narrowed his eyes. " _Phased array?_ Phased array, phased array... Hang on, do you mean this blanket fort is equipped with _laser guns_?"

 

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I was so sure it was _you_ who made it?"

 

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Tony gestured wildly. "I have to see this. I can't _believe_ I made a blanket fort equipped with laser guns and I don't even remember!"

 

Bruce gave a long-suffering sigh. "I can. I can believe it _just_ fine."

 

Tony smiled at Bruce and then grabbed him by the elbow and forcibly dragged him out of the kitchen.

 

"Well then," Steve said. "Welcome to Stark Tower."

 

"Indeed," JARVIS's voice came down from the ceiling. "I apologise for interrupting, but Mr Stark appears to have left for Dr Banner's lab. Expected time before his re-emergence is currently 15 hours 48 minutes, with a root-mean-square deviation of 1 hour 17 minutes. In the meantime, I would be happy to show you around the tower and answer any questions that may arise."

 

"Thank you, JARVIS," Natasha said.

 

"Well, I've got to go work out," Steve said. "It was great seeing you, and I'm sure JARVIS will take care of you guys."

 

"Good seeing you, too," Clint and Natasha replied.

 

"So," Clint said, after he'd left. "Feeling better?"

 

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

 

"Oh come on, they weren't that bad."

 

"Rogers _reheats his tea_ ," Natasha said, lowering her voice. "In the _microwave_."

 

"You'll live," Clint said, patting her back.

 

FIN 

****************************************************************************  
****************************************************************************  
****************************************************************************

 

[CODA, because I don't like stupid-Thor and my head-canon is that Thor knows what he's doing when he trash-talks electronic appliances.]

 

Later that evening, after Clint and Natasha had retreated to the floor they were sharing in the tower, but two hours before Bruce and Tony were expected to re-emerge from the lab per JARVIS's predictions, Steve and Thor sat next to each other at the dining table, playing umsátrinuleik, a game that would be best described as an Asgardian variant of go, with pieces hovering in a three-dimensional board.

 

Several weeks earlier, the resident science geniuses had learned about the game and created the board for it, using, as Bruce had explained, some sort of magnetic levitation. The board had taken them six days to make, although in the process of it, they had both apparently become masters of the umsátrinuleik--nobody but Thor could defeat either of them, and Thor had two hundred years of experience--so perhaps that accounted for much of those six days.

 

"Thor," Steve said. "Do you mind if I ask a question?"

 

Thor grabbed a piece from his pile and gestured for Steve to continue.

 

"How much of this fish-out-of-water business you've got going on is a performance?"

 

Thor smiled and placed his piece. "I could ask you the same thing."

 

"Humour me," Steve said.

 

"There is much in this realm that genuinely confuses me," Thor said, looking down at the pieces in his hand. "Magic works differently here from any other world I've seen, and the discrepancy can be frustating at times. I have, however, played ambassador on enough realms to know how to use my confusion in a way that is endearing, rather than presumptuous."

 

"Thought so," Steve smirked.

 

"Are you certain? Had I been truly out-maneuvered by every instance of Midgardian magic I encounter, I would perhaps have given the same response."

 

"I know," Steve smiled. "But we're playing the same game, and it takes one to know one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] In my head-canon, Bruce is not actually trolling Steve here. In college, I had that diagram taped to my microwave, and I didn't have any Asgardians or recently re-awoken super-soldiers to troll.


	2. Green Beer, Shamrocks, and Other Gems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve decides to go all out for Saint Patrick's Day, and enlist the others' help. Natasha and Clint go a bit overboard on the decoration, which upsets Steve a little, until he understands. Bruce gives Tony a present, but realises he didn't quite think it through when Tony uses it to troll everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General: I know most people write Clint as a goofball and Natasha as a serious, deadly assassin who'd be willing to kill anyone regardless of how close they are. I enjoy reading that portrayal in fic, but based on MCU canon, that's not my reading of them at all. I see them as both competent and professional on the job, and off the job, I see them both as people who are capable of making fun of themselves and who genuinely enjoy being themselves around their friends.
> 
> To OP on avengerkink: I had to do a bit of manoeuvring around Pi Day and the Ides of March, (March 14 and 15), because I can't really see the team geeks ignoring them. However, this story focuses on St Paddy's Day, so I hope that's sufficient.

[March 13, evening.]

 

"Sounds like you're quite serious about St Patrick's Day," Clint said sitting on a windowsill of the dining room, watching Steve mix the bright green paint he was using to re-decorate the ugly dinner plates he had acquired from a good will several days earlier.

 

"Yeah," Steve admitted. "I haven't had a real holiday since childhood, you know? And that was during the Depression."

 

Natasha smiled sympathetically. "Anything we can help with?"

 

"Well, now you mention it, you could help re-decorate the dining room," Steve said. "If it's not too much trouble. Tony agreed to decorate the outside of the tower, but he rolled his eyes when I mentioned decorating the inside."

 

Natasha stared at him. 

 

"Don't worry about it if you don't want to," Steve added after a moment. "I thought it could be fun. You know, just put up some pretty green decorations, maybe some shamrocks or leprechaun hats."

 

Natasha continued to stare for two seconds before suddenly coming up with an idea.

 

"Sure!" She said brightly. "Clint and I are on it."

 

Steve narrowed his eyes, clearly finding her enthusiasm suspicious.

 

"Um," Clint said, raising his hand with a horrified look on his face. "I haven't decorated for a holiday since, well, _ever_ , I think."

 

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

 

"Yeah," Clint said, thinking back. "I'm assuming teepeeing doesn't count... and that was more Barney than me, anyway."

 

"Teepeeing?" Steve asked.

 

"It's when you put toilet paper all over someone's house," Natasha explained. "And it definitely doesn't count. But. First time for everything, right?"

 

Clint glared.

 

"Oh, don't look at me like that! It'll be fun."

 

"You and I have slightly different definitions of 'fun'," Clint said.

 

Natasha smiled at him. He'd come around. He always did, and this time, she really _was_ going to make it fun for both of them.

 

***

 

[March 14, late evening.]

 

"Great job on the little Pi Day party earlier," Tony said, looking over Bruce's shoulder while Bruce checked the temperature of his superconducting magnet.

 

"It was so dorky," Bruce said. He could feel himself blushing. "I can't even believe I did that in front of two super-spies, a living legend, and a god."

 

"Yeah, it was kinda dorky," Tony admitted. "But in an endearing way!"

 

"Uh-huh," Bruce blushed harder.

 

"And they learned something, so that's nice, right? A basic science education seems to be sorely missed when it comes to that lot."

 

"I think Clint's take-away from the Buffon needle simulation was that pi is infinity."[1]

 

"Yeah, we probably should have realised that even tossing behind his back, Hawkeye was gonna make them all end up perfectly parallel, exactly halfway between the lines."

 

"Yeah."

 

"At least the method worked for everyone else?" Tony said consolingly. "Also the introduction of [Pilish](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilish)? Inspired."

 

Bruce had to agree on that one. "Yeah, Thor was kinda incredible."

 

"I know, right? An entire Asgardian Saga in Pilish. Who'd have thought?"

 

"I was expecting Thor to make fun of us for the whole thing. He was a surprisingly good sport," Bruce said. He sounded almost regretful.

 

Tony narrowed his eyes at the apologetic tone. "You'd already planned out your revenge, hadn't you?"

 

"Maybe," Bruce said, ducking his head.

 

"Oh no, no, no. You don't get to be evasive with me. House rules. Now spill."

 

"It might have involved the Ides of March, a Caesar salad, a plastic knife, and a reenactment in a very public location."

 

Tony snorted. "See, this is what I like about you."

 

"That I plan out revenge for slights that haven't even happened yet?"

 

"Hey, gotta be prepared," Tony shrugged. "That and your revenge plans are adorable."

 

"Thanks," Bruce said, with an eyebrow raised.

 

Then he paused. "Seriously, though, thanks. For being supportive and not letting me chicken out." It had been a long time since Bruce had enjoyed showing off his passion for science, and even longer since he dared to attract attention in any form, so he was quite certain he'd never have hosted a Pi Day party without Tony's enthusiastic support and all-but-literal hand-holding every step of the way.

 

"Please," Tony rolled his eyes playfully. "Real friends don't let friends hide their enthusiasm for pi."

 

 _Friend?_ Hulk asked in Bruce's head. Bruce glanced down at the magnetometer in his hands. It was a habit of his--shuttering his eyes when he knew they were turning green, which usually happened when the Hulk spoke to him.

 

"We are friends, right?" Tony asked.

 

"Yeah," Bruce said quickly. "Sorry. I'm just not used to it."

 

Tony hummed. "Why do you always look away when your eyes turn green?" 

 

"Huh?"

 

"Every time. Seriously, you've got awesome colour-changing eyes that make every else jealous, and you don't even flaunt it! It's unbelievable."

 

"I'm not sure 'jealous' is the word you're looking for."

 

Tony sighed. "Someday, we are going to teach you how to strut."

 

 

**************

 

[March 15, daytime]

 

"I do not understand," Thor said. "The gracious voice of the Tower tells me the festival commemorates the death of the Apostle of Ireland."

 

"Originally, yes," Steve replied patiently, trying to think about how to explain it.

 

"Midgardians are interesting!" Thor said. "You celebrate special numbers and the religious leaders of islands thousands of miles away. I approve."

 

Steve smiled. "In the US these days, it's actually more about celebrating Irish American culture."

 

"Oh, I see. A celebration of heritage?"

 

"Yeah, that's right!"

 

"Oh. That is intriguing! What are the rituals of this festival, then?"

 

Steve grinned and started to explain--decorations, food, shamrocks, parades, precisely what the purpose of green beer was (no, it's not a libation!). It was interesting, explaining such a tradition to an alien, but Thor's giddy excitement easily made up for his lack of understanding. When he left for Asgard later that afternoon, he promised to to bring back a special decoration for the occasion from the vaults of Dvengarheimr.

 

 

***

 

 

[March 16, evening]

 

"Hey Tony," Bruce said, wandering into Tony's lab. "How are the shaping mechanisms coming along?"

 

Without turning around, Tony pointed to a corner of the lab, where there was a small cloud floating, in the perfect shape of a leprechaun's hat.

 

Bruce smiled. "Nice. I pushed my code for the colour change mechanism into the repository a few minutes ago, so--"

 

"Just pulled it," Tony said, turning to face him. "It's looking pretty good, and in three... two... one--"

 

There was a blip as the cloud stabilisers updated and an instant later, the floating leprechaun-hat-cloud was a bright green colour, with a dark green band and a shimmering gold buckle.

 

"Wow," Bruce said in wonder. "It merged seamlessly! You know I don't think I've ever had a forked project merge that smoothly."

 

"Don't look so surprised! You're working with Tony fucking Stark."

 

"Who doesn't play well with others, so they tell me."

 

"You should know better than to listen to _them_."

 

Bruce shrugged. "Guess I should." He glanced down shyly. "I made you a present."

 

"Really?" Tony grinned. "Is it a sex toy?"

 

Bruce rolled his eyes, and took a small box out of his pocket.

 

"Wow," Tony said. "Isn't that a bit forward? We haven't even had sex yet. Or gone on a date, come to think of it. Although, I suppose if you want a spring wedding..."

 

Bruce rolled his eyes, yet again. Being around Tony could be such an extraocular muscle workout, sometimes.

 

"Do you want your present or not?" Bruce asked, holding out the box.

 

Tony glanced at Bruce, apparently decided that he'd had his fill of teasing the poor scientist, and grabbed the box, opening it hungrily.

 

When he saw what it was, he gasped. "Are those... what I think they are?"

 

Bruce smiled at him. "Let me show you how they work."

 

 

****************

 

 

[March 17, 1PM]

 

"Mmm... Smells good," Clint said, wandering through the kitchen, wearing a dark olive green leather jacket, with a faded fern-green t-shirt underneath. Steve was putting the finishing touches on the emerald coloured pancakes shaped like shamrocks, while Bruce pulled a tray of cheddar baked eggs with Irish bangers out of the oven, each shaped into a shamrock by the a shell made from the cross section of a green pepper. A loaf of Irish soda bread was sitting on the counter. It had been sliced in half, and the sliced surface bore the image of a chartreuse leprechaun hat. There was a pot of colcannon was simmering on the stove and a stockpot of corned beef and cabbage on the kitchen floor.

 

"Don't touch anything!" Bruce squawked as Clint sauntered by.

 

Clint jumped back away from him and pulled his hands to his chest in the universal gesture of not-touching-anything.

 

"Sorry," Bruce said sheepishly. "Steve and I kind of have a system going. There's a fruit plate and muffins in the dining room, courtesy of Pepper, if you're hungry."

 

"No problem," Clint said. He sniped a pancake straight off Steve's skillet when the latter's head was turned and then left for the dining room.

 

Clint looked around at the room in satisfaction. The whole room was glittering with forest green gems shaped into clovers. He and Natasha had spent the previous several days acquiring the decorations and most of the night setting them up around the room, and between the two of them, they had made it perfect.

 

Natasha herself was already seated at the dining table, wearing a jade blouse and dark jeans. She had her feet propped up on a chair, and was reading on her tablet as she absent-mindedly picked strawberry slices off the fruit plate--it was an enormous display: slices of strawberry, papaya, pineapple, and kiwi, as well as blueberries and purple grapes were arranged in a rainbow shape, with a bowl of chocolate coins sat at one end of the rainbow and a pile of marshmallows at the other.

 

Natasha smiled at Clint as he entered, and took her feet off the chair next to her, inviting him to sit.

 

"We weren't bad, were we?" Clint asked, gesturing at the decoration.

 

Natasha smiled at him. "Told you decorating could be fun."

 

For the next few minutes, the two of them sat in the kitchen, watching Steve and Bruce finish cooking and bring the food into the dining room. From what Clint saw, it really did look like they had some sort of system going--they hardly spoke to each other, even though they were collaborating on most of the dishes and they worked with surprising efficiency.

 

Just as Steve set the last dishes on the table, Tony and Pepper strode into the dining room, just back from an SI board meeting Pepper had somehow convinced Tony to attend.

 

"Wow, this smells fantastic," Pepper said. "You were right," she added to Tony. "I shouldn't have had lunch before the--Tony?"

 

Tony had stopped walking and was staring at the decorations Clint and Natasha had spent the previous evening putting up. He walked up to one of the shining shamrock decorations hanging from the ceiling and inspected it.

 

"Who put these here?" he asked, glancing around suspiciously.

 

"Clint and Natasha helped decorate this area," Steve answered, confused by Tony's suspicion. "Why?"

 

"JARVIS," Tony said. "Are these real emeralds?"

 

"Based on light and sound analysis, I would say with 97% certainty that they are."

 

"They what?!" Steve sputtered. He turned to Natasha. "You-- Did-- What did you do?"

 

Tony hummed, ignoring him. "How much would you value all this at, J?" 

 

"The entire collection I would estimate to be worth 230 million US dollars."

 

"Uh-huh. So, why didn't this show up when I was looking for emeralds to decorate Banner's lab?"

 

"When you were what?!" Pepper and Bruce yelled simultaneously.

 

"Tony..." Pepper said.

 

"How could you?" Bruce finished for her.

 

"It brings out your eyes," Tony said in a tone that was probably meant to be comforting. "Well, sometimes, anyway. And it's less smashable than jade."

 

"That isn't exactly saying much!"

 

"This collection was not on any known market," JARVIS answered Tony's earlier question. "It appears to be the lost Galway Emerald Star collection, stolen out of the Smithsonian in 1963."

 

Tony turned to Natasha and Clint, who sported identical smug smiles.

 

Steve, in the meantime was still staring at them in shock. "Did you guys steal this?"

 

Natasha shrugged. "Not in 1963, we didn't."

 

Steve took a deep breath. "You stole a multi-million dollar emerald collection just to decorate the dining room."

 

"Please, I've done much more extravagant than that," Tony tried to put in.

 

"By stealing?" Steve asked.

 

"Okay maybe not."

 

"I don't see what the problem is," Natasha said.

 

"Don't see--" Steve repeated.

 

"I don't either," Clint agreed, "They're green, just like you asked for, they're shaped like shamrocks, just like you asked for, and we had fun doing it, just like you asked for."

 

"We could return them afterwards, if you want" Natasha offered. "But I doubt you want that, since we stole the collection from the leader of one of the most lucrative human trafficking rings in the world."

 

 _That_ seemed to calm Steve down. "Oh. I mean, that doesn't make it okay, but. Hm... Are you also bringing them to justice?"

 

"We did lift quite a bit of evidence when we took the pieces," Natasha said in her best placating voice.

 

"Okay, just this once, I'll let it slide." Steve sighed. "Though when I asked you guys to decorate, stealing emeralds from human traffickers wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

 

"I hope you weren't hurt?" Bruce cut in, shifting easily into his concerned-doctor-mode. "Going up against human traffickers and all that."

 

"Please," Natasha rolled her eyes at his concern. "It was like stealing weapons designs from HammerTech R&D."

 

Bruce stared at her.

 

"She means it's like stealing enriched plutonium from Bushehr," Clint clarified for Natasha.

 

"I think they're trying to say 'easy'," Tony stage-whispered to Bruce.

 

"Aren't spies supposed to be _good_ at pretending to be normal?" Bruce asked.

 

Clint shrugged. "You're not targets."

 

Bruce and Tony both turned a questioning glance at Natasha.

 

"Yeah, no," Natasha said. "I'm absolutely _not_ going to apologise to either of you for doing my job. But I will say that those jobs ended a while ago."

 

"It's exhausting enough pretending when you're on the job," Clint said. "There's no reason to keep pretending around you guys."

 

There was a long silence.

 

"Okay, this conversation is officially too saccharine for my current level of sobriety," Tony said, breaking the silence, and motioning towards the keg in the corner.

 

"We should eat," Steve said, interrupting Tony's movement towards the beer.

 

Tony stopped and glanced indecisively between the food and the beer.

 

"Bruce helped me cook," Steve said.

 

Tony hummed and sat down at the table.

 

"Though, Thor said he'd be getting here around," he checked the clock. "Ten minutes ago."

 

As if on cue, the elevator doors opened, and Thor stepped out, wearing a flowing emerald cape instead of his usual red. In his arms, he held a large cauldron full of shimmering golden coins, with what appeared to be a rainbow shooting out of it. The rainbow extended out of the cauldron, across the room and straight out the window, where it went as far as even Clint's eyes could see.

 

"Friends!" Thor boomed. "Apologies for my tardiness. On my way here, I was impeded by a crowd of Midgardians, who had apparently never before seen a Dvengarish crock.

 

Thor looked puzzled, as though everyone should have experience handling the ends of rainbows.

 

"No worries--" Steve started to say, but he was cut off by Tony.

 

"What the hell is that?" Tony pointed at the rainbow. "JARVIS, how is he doing that?"

 

"There is nothing but slightly elevated levels of water vapour, there. They appear to be refracting the light in an optical phenomenon the English speaking call a 'rainbow'."

 

"That's impossible," Bruce whispered in wonder, staring at the soft colours.

 

"Exactly!" Tony said, pointing at Bruce. "That's not [how rainbows work](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainbow#Overview)! They're supposed to be at a 42° angle from the sun!"

 

"And 54° for the secondary," Bruce added.

 

"The point is you can't just approach one, much less carry it around!" Tony continued.

 

"Apparently you can," Steve said with a shrug, standing up to help relieve Thor of the cauldron. "I'm glad you made it!" he said to Thor. "And I hope you're hungry, because Bruce and I cooked."

 

"And a scrumptious meal indeed, if my eyes and nose do not betray me," Thor beamed with his usual ebullience.

 

"Great, have a seat!" Steve said to Thor.

 

While Steve was speaking, Bruce went to hand out the plates that Steve had painted shamrocks on earlier.

 

Tony was still not satisfied. "There is an affront to science in my tower, and nobody's going to say anything?" He asked Bruce as he took a plate from him.

 

"It's a pretty affront to science," Bruce shrugged.

 

"Really? Et tu Bruce?" Tony whined.

 

"I understand that reference!" Thor said. He smiled proudly when everyone turned to him "My lady took me to a performance in the park on the Ides of March. It was most illuminating."

 

"Speaking of affronts," Steve said looking at Tony, as Bruce settled down to eat. "I want to know more about the affront to St Patrick's day that is the fact that _somebody_ isn't wearing green."

 

"Are you sure about that?" Tony asked smirking.

 

"If you're planning to tell us you're wearing green underwear..." Steve raised an eyebrow.

 

Tony smiled and blinked slowly and deliberately. He continued to smile when he opened his eyes.

 

His shining, bright, radioactive-green eyes.

 

Clint, Natasha, Pepper, and Steve recoiled in their seats, pushing their chairs slightly back. Thor leaned forward, intrigued. Bruce raised an eyebrow.

 

"Oh my god, Tony," Pepper said. "What did you do?"

 

"Is this--" Steve started. "You're not going to Hulk out, are you?"

 

Tony smiled cryptically at him, his emerald eyes dancing. Bruce rolled his eyes.

 

Thor tilted his head. "The fair maiden Darcy told me harrowing tales of many Midgardian maladies and woes that are transferred through acts of love, but I did not know that gifts could be so transferred as well. I congratulate you on your coupling and on your acquisition of the good doctor's gift."

 

"No," Bruce groaned and ran his hands over his face. "Just no. That's not how the Hulk works, guys. It's not contagious, it's not sexually transmitted, and it's definitely not a gift." With the last word, he glared at Thor, though he immediately regretted it when Thor whipped out his soon-to-be-trademarked kicked puppy look. (Tony was acquiring a trademark for it on Thor's behalf.)

 

"Damn it, Bruce," Tony groused at him. "I had them eating out of my hand."

 

"So how are you doing that?" Steve asked.

 

"They're coloured contact lenses that can change colour based on telepathically communicated commands," Tony explained with a sigh. Then he perked up. "Bruce made them for me, because I'm his favourite."

 

He looked around at the others, as if checking to make sure they hadn't received even better presents from the physicist. Nobody contradicted him, probably because they all understood that Tony was, in fact, Bruce's favourite.

 

"Okay, you win, I won't pinch you," Steve said. "Also, dig in, guys, or the food's gonna get cold."

 

After that, the party went fairly smoothly. JARVIS started playing traditional Irish music, which delighted Steve and infuriated Tony.

 

Tony turned on the cloud generator he and Bruce had made, so that huge green shamrock-shaped clouds danced around the New York City skyline. It bothered Thor to no end to see such garish clouds amongst the perfectly arranged cloud design, though Tony assured him that as an affront to nature and magic, it balanced out Thor's earlier affront to science.

 

At some point, during their meal, Clint and Natasha had an argument about who could step-dance better and they ended up going to their rooms to grab some hard shoes and proceeded to have a dance-off, though they ended up calling it a tie when everybody refused to touch that particular golden apple. After Steve broke out the green beer, they all taught each other a few Irish, American, and Asgardian toasts and drinking songs and Clint and Natasha tried to teach the rest how to step-dance, but between the meal and the alcohol, it was clear from the start that it wasn't going to happen.

 

Instead Thor suggested they go watch the performances on the street instead, and Steve wrote St Patrick's Day cards with chocolate coins, which Clint and Natasha reverse-pickpocketed into strangers wallets, arguing about whether it should count for double points if the victim is sober before realising that Steve and Bruce were the only sober people around, so they decided it was four points for Steve and five for Bruce, to account for Steve's heightened reflexes and Bruce's extraordinary bodily awareness.

 

"That was a pretty amazing party, Steve," Bruce said to Steve while they watched the others dancing in the spontaneous ceilidh that was happening on the closed off street, and babysat Thor's Dvengarish cauldron while a few children poked and prodded at it. "You've been holding out on us.

 

Steve snorted. "There's an affront to nature in the sky and an affront to science on the ground, and the dining room in Stark Tower is decorated with a twice-stolen gem collection taken from a gang of human traffickers. This isn't what I imagined at all."

 

Bruce turned to him. "Really? What _did_ you imagine?"

 

Steve looked to Bruce and sighed, but he let Bruce see his proud smile underneath. After all, he had asked for a party and in their own way, his team had come through for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] The Buffon Needle Method for calculating π works like this: If you draw parallel lines on the ground at distance L apart and toss sticks of length L, then π=2/P where P is the probability that a stick hits a line, so if you Monte-Carlo this, you get a way to approximate π. However, if all your sticks land between the lines, like what presumably happened to Clint, you get P=0 in the Monte Carlo, so π = 2/0 = ∞.


End file.
